


Friendly Competition

by FoxRafer



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Back to Middle-Earth Month, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for B2MeM Challenge G51 on my 'AU: Who Lives and Who Dies?' and 'Here We Come A-Caroling' Bingo cards, and G50 on my 'Beasts' Bingo card.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Friendly Competition

**Author's Note:**

> Written for B2MeM Challenge G51 on my 'AU: Who Lives and Who Dies?' and 'Here We Come A-Caroling' Bingo cards, and G50 on my 'Beasts' Bingo card.

Telmárië jumped over the narrow creek, her hooves landing sure and steady on the opposite shore. She pushed forward, picking up speed, her mane flowing in the breeze. She loved it when Arathraen let her have her head, racing through the forest and across the open plains, the two of them as free as the wind. They fed off each other's joy and the wild spirit they both shared.

Arathraen leaned over her horse's neck, urging her on with every laugh and wordless cry. She might not yet be as strong as her brother or as quick with a blade, but she was younger by five years and had yet to finish her studies in Imladris. "Give me time and experience," she'd tell anyone who would listen, "and I'll be a better swordsman." She was already confident that her brother would never be as good a horseman. He was no match for her and Telmárië no matter what horse he rode; in fact, she doubted there was anyone in the whole of Middle-earth who could beat them in a race. She could hear her brother and his steed in the distance, a much clumsier gait along a route chosen with too much caution, and she shook her head at his penchant to play it safe. If that's how the heir to the throne was expected to behave she was glad she was the second born and could throw caution to the wind.

Their chosen finish line, a small outcropping of rocks, was just ahead and she steered Telmárië around the gravel-filled divots she knew were directly in front of them. It meant the gap between her and her adversary would close a little if he was approaching from the West, but not enough to be a concern. Around the obstacles, they broke through into the open field and she saw them to her left, a bit closer than she had expected. Arathraen gave Telmárië's mane a small tug as she flexed and squeezed her flank tighter.

"Noro lim, Telmárië," she whispered, and the beautiful bay responded in an instant, digging through the earth as if she were one of the Meara. The world both narrowed and expanded around them, their focus like a pinpoint of light on their destination while they felt the vastness of everything surrounding them lifting them into the sky. As they reached their goal, they circled behind the rocks, Telmárië easing into a canter as they rode to meet her brother before he could finish the race.

"One of these days you'll learn not to take so many risks," Aragorn chided. "The ground is unstable where you crossed the spring and there are small hollows in the woods that could have broken your horse's leg."

Arathraen rolled her eyes. "The ground is only unstable after a heavy rain, and there's been not a drop from the sky in many days. As for the divots, they are easily avoided. You, brother, are too careful. It slows you down, here and elsewhere."

"Am I to accept advice from a child?"

"A child who could outride you blindfolded. And one who has learned sometimes the best course of action is the riskier road."

"You only take risks and shortcuts because you're forever trying to beat me. You're too competitive."

"Says the man with one of Elrond's best horses who still couldn't win a simple race."

"Arathraen, you have much to learn. Do not rush to catch me. Give yourself time to absorb everything Father and Lord Elrond wish for you to know. As for the race, I don't think there are many who could best you and Telmárië cross country. I've never seen a horse and rider so attuned to one another."

She stroked a gentle hand along Telmárië's neck, pleased with the compliment. "I think your horse needs a rest. I brought some bread and water with me."

"And I've a skin of wine and some fruit. The makings of a true feast."

They dismounted and quickly rubbed down their horses before leading them to a small stream a few yards away. Sitting in the shade of a willow, brother and sister shared their food in silence. The sun began to fall in the sky and Aragorn stood, stretching out his muscles.

"We should start back. Elrond will not be pleased that we've tarried so long."

Arathraen laughed. "Which translates to 'I have plans to meet Lady Arwen this evening.'"

Aragorn gave a noncommittal grunt. "In any event, it's time we returned."

Arathraen held Telmárië's bridle but made no move to prepare to ride. "Are you really leaving for the Blue Mountains soon? And then from there down to Rohan?"

"Yes."

"It may be years before we see each other again."

Aragorn looked at her, seeing the little girl once more inside his headstrong sister. He smiled and took her hand. "I will send messages whenever I can, I promise. And just think: when we are reunited you might almost be as proficient as me with a sword."

"Almost?" Arathraen scoffed, gliding into the saddle in one smooth motion. "Brother mine, I'm almost better than you now."

Aragorn's laughter chased after her as she urged Telmárië to race ahead.


End file.
